


busy thinkin bout boys

by orphan_account



Category: Spider-Man (Comicverse), Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Age Difference, Belly worship, DFAB reader, Feeding Kink, Footjobs, Gender-neutral Reader, Other, Stuffing, peter is just a hot dilf, reader is an adult, sex and pizza
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-09-28 23:43:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17192420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: You nodded at him without really thinking about what you were doing. “You could hang out at my place with me and we could order a pizza, if you want.” How nonchalant of you.Peter’s face flushed a deep pink. “Oh. Sure. I’ll pay for the pizza.By the way, nice Weezer shirt.”





	busy thinkin bout boys

You sigh, while knocking on somebody’s apartment door, holding a box of pizza in your other hand. The person who ordered this pizza didn’t seem to want to answer the door, which sucked for you because you’re just doing this as a part-time job for some quick cash (especially since you had just dropped out of college, ouch), so the last thing you expected was to be stood up like this.

Maybe they had just ordered it as a prank? Extra-large Hawaiian, extra pineapple, extra cheese. Sounds like a big deal for something that would just have been ordered as a joke.

You experienced a sudden feeling of shock as there were very audibly loud noises coming from behind the door. Things falling over, glass probably breaking, the sound of someone cursing loudly.

You knocked on the door again. “Is everything alright in there?” you asked, concerned. There was incoherent mumbling, and the turn of the doorknob from the other side, and then it finally opened.

A man was standing there, seemingly out of breath – panting hard. His hair was a huge frazzled mess, and he was only dressed in a white tee and boxer shorts. He looked like… a complete mess of a person. You couldn’t help but giggle.

“Yeah, it’s fine, I, uh,” he said, exasperated. “I ordered an extra-large pineapple pizza, yeah?” You watched as he patted at the side of his legs, like he was looking for something. “Um, one sec, please—"

You tapped your foot impatiently, still holding the box of pizza which had probably gone from hot to mildly warm by now. You peaked into his place, just a little bit, and saw that it was approximately as much of a mess as he seemed to be, things all over the floor and all.

The man rushed back to where you were standing, handing you a crumpled up twenty-dollar bill, and when you looked up at his face you saw him giving a sheepish, embarrassed grin. “This usually doesn’t happen, I promise,” he said with a weak chuckle. As you eyed him up and down, there was a lot to unpack – very hairy, dark bags under his eyes, a permanent five o’clock shadow, and a less than subtle beer belly.

The man noticed you checking him out and he felt his face go warm. “Is there… something you wanted?” he said, voice suddenly nervous from shyness.

You felt your face get even warmer at his comment. It’s not like there was much for him to look at in return, because you were wearing a generic work uniform; you hadn’t shaved in a week or two, but you liked to think you at least presented better than your customer, and you had a cute androgynous face.

“Here, dude, just take your pizza,” you muttered, voice quiet. “It’s probably cold by now.”

He took it from you and gave you a cute smile. “It’s okay, I like cold pizza,” he said playfully. “Parker. Uh, Peter B. Parker, that’s my,” he paused. “My name.”

As he decided to avoid eye contact with you, out of embarrassment, you could only blink at his words. What reason did he have to tell you his name? _Was this what the kids these days called… flirting_? You shook that thought out of your head. I mean, you were wearing baggy work clothes, and it’s not you had much going for you in your life now other than being a college dropout.

And he smelled weird. Like sweat, and pizza. You both met each other’s eyes at the same time but then turned away immediately, because he knew you kept checking him out.

Okay, it had been a long time since you had a crush of any kind (you broke up with your ex two years ago, after they said they were planning to marry you and everything) and this man had to be at least a few years older than you, but he –

“If I reheat this pizza would you like to share some of it with me?”

“Um.” You gulped. You didn’t think this was part of your job; and if you didn’t get back you might get fired. “I appreciate the offer, but I should probably uh, go back to work,” you said, rubbing your hand behind your head. “Nice to meet you though, Peter!”

Peter had already been eating pizza while you were talking to him, but he looked up for a moment to give you a warm smile. “Hey, same to you, thanks for the ‘za.”

You watched Peter close the door behind him and let out a large sigh of relief. That whole situation was a dozen times more stressful than it needed to be.

You needed a drink.

 

\--

 

The next day was a Sunday, which was the only day that you had off work. You woke up at 12pm because it was hard to fall asleep last night, causing you to oversleep. You were pretty sure there was no more instant coffee left, so it would be a good day to go to your favorite coffee shop – Brooklyn had about a hundred different ones, but there was one that was right across the street from your work ( _what a coincidence_ ) so you managed to drag yourself out of bed for some caffeine.

Without much thought you just put on a band tee and a very fitting pair of ripped jeans before grabbing your wallet and speeding out the door.

It was going from summer to fall so while it was still warm, there was a slight chill in the air, leaves already starting to fall off the trees. You would take the way you always do, via public transportation – which was humiliating for someone in their mid twenties who should have like, 5 cars by now, or something.

There was a loud clatter coming from above, and countless people chattering amongst themselves around you on the sidewalk, and when you looked up you saw someone swinging from across one building to the next.

 _Oh, it’s just Spider-Man_.

Approaching the bus stop, you paid no mind to the masked spider superhero – until a stranger ran past you, and as you glanced behind you to see who it was, you didn’t notice that Spider-Man was running towards your direction and very clumsily knocked into you, pushing the both of you over in a heap on the sidewalk.

“Oh shit, uh, I’m so sorry, I was just in such a hurry that I—”

He looked to realize that, like a complete idiot, he had fallen right on top of you, your bodies dangerously close to each other, his chest against yours. Your eyes open wide in fear and your face goes totally red (about as red as his suit), and even if you couldn’t see his face behind the mask, his expression had been the same.

“O-Oh my god,” he mumbled. “Oh god, uh, I’m so.” He immediately jumped back upward and then reached out a hand to pull you back up with him. “I’m so sorry, oh my god.”

The sudden scent of day-old pizza wavered in the air, and your nose crinkled as you took in the smell. He kind of smelled like sweat, too, now that you think about it.

_Sweaty pizza. Ew._

“Hey, it’s fine, whatever, dude – I mean, Spider-Dude,” you said with a genuine laugh, amused at his naivety. You brushed messy hair out of your eyes and smirked at him with a feeling of familiarity.

Spider-Man put his hand on his forehead, grumbling in frustration. “Thanks, I just missed the guy I was chasing after. Whatever, no big deal.” He glanced at you casually, noticing your T-shirt.

“Oh, you like Weezer?” he asked curiously.

You blinked a few times. “Yeah, Spider-Man, I like Weezer. They’re good,” you told him as he noticed your shirt.

A light blush crawled across your face. You wonder if he noticed.

The bus you had been waiting for was pulling up, and unfortunately you didn’t have the time to continue talking about alternative rock bands, so you walked over to the bus to get on, Spider-Man watching you leave.

“Bye, Spider-Man,” you said, waving, giving him a meek smile.

He waved back, looking defeated, as if he thought he was getting somewhere even though he had technically been “on the job”.

 _Whatever,_ he thought _. I’m my own boss, I’m taking a break_.

 

\--

 

Sitting at a table to yourself in the coffee shop, distant from anyone else because you liked solidarity, you had been on your second cup of iced coffee – and you could feel your stomach disagreeing with you.

But it had a shot of cinnamon in it, so it was worth it anyway.

It was never your incentive to notice other customers walking in and out, because they were always total strangers and it was honestly none of your business. Not like you would meet up with a friend or anything, all your friends were back in New Jersey, before you had moved to NYC to attend school. _Not the best time to think about that, honestly_.

Your nose perked up as you smelled the heavy odor of pineapple and sweat. Quickly looking over near the entrance, you see a very tall and noticeable figure, taking his order.

Even if you couldn’t see his face, you recognized that smell anyway, as you had already smelled it so badly before.

 _But that was from Spider-Man. And the only other person was that man who_ \--

As the man looked around the room, you could only pray to the gods that he wouldn’t notice you, to avoid any awkward encounters that could arise.

He was walking close to where you were sitting, but luckily didn’t see you and was about to sit down at the table across from you – until he noticed you at the last minute, your gaze meeting with his, with your heart feeling like it was going to leap out of your chest.

He gave you a friendly smirk. “Hey, aren’t you the person who delivered my pizza?” he asked. He was holding a whole dozen box of donuts under one arm and a coffee in his hand.

It took him a second to realize that not only had you seen him as Spider-Man earlier, but he had literally fallen on top of you like a moron. He tried to let it slide and be cool, continuing to flash you a smile. “Do you mind if I sit with you?”

 _Was he trying to be smooth_? It shouldn’t have worked on you because he was an obvious clumsy nerd, but you felt flattered that such a handsome older man was giving you so much attention.

It took about a full minute before your head left the clouds as you thought about how attractive he was, looking back at him and nodding. “Yeah, go ahead, man!” you said with a shy chuckle, pushing hair from your eyes neatly behind your ear.

 _Peter, right? That was his name_. Peter sat down on the chair across the table from yours, placing his box of donuts and coffee cup down on the table surface. Before either of you could say anything else to each other, he yawned very loudly, one of his large hands going over his mouth as he did. He looked like he hadn’t slept for at least a week or more.

“Sorry, everything has just been so hectic lately—” Peter said, taking out a donut and pushing the whole thing in his mouth easily. He licked the glaze off his long fingers after.

You really kept noticing his hands for some reason.

“Especially my job, it can be so—” He froze, remembering the situation that had happened not long ago and decided not to tell you any more about it. “Life just sucks when you’re pushing your forties, y’know?”

 _He was almost 40_? You coughed. “I wouldn’t really know actually, I’m still 25.” You kept playing with your hair as a means of distraction for your fingers. “You look good for being almost 40.”

Peter’s droopy, hazel eyes seemed to light up at that comment, taking a sip of his coffee and pushing his hair back with his palm after. “Ha ha, really?” he said with a low chuckle, his voice deep and charming. “Most people criticize my weight so that’s nice to hear, actually. From anyone.”

You instinctively felt your legs close, because he had begun to ooze sex appeal and it was probably going to drive you crazy if he didn’t go back to be a dork soon. “No way, man, your tummy is cute.” You mentally slapped yourself for using the word tummy.

Peter’s eyes were looking directly into yours now, and it was starting to be too much to handle. “Tummy? Aw, that’s _adorable_.” Another donut finished, you were fixated on the precise way that he put one, then two fingers in his mouth, subtly sucking on them – all you could do was fight your animalistic urge to leap across the table and jump on him to suck his dick.

Too bad Peter had noticed your lustful staring. “Something the matter?” he asked, snapping you out of your horny thoughts.

You shook your head. “I’m fine!” Except you realized there had still been a half-filled cup of iced coffee that you probably haven’t touched for the past half hour in your daze of infatuation.

Who even cared about coffee, it was overrated. You just wanted to bring Peter to bed with you, ordering an extra-large pineapple pizza, rubbing the hot slices against his cock and hearing him moan for you.

Your face must have been as red as a tomato, and surely, he noticed that too. Peter twirled a strand of hair between his fingers, his eyes lowering down your body, because he knew _full well_ what he was doing to you.

“What’s on your mind?”

You probably could have just worn sweatpants or something and not the rather tight jeans you chose, as you closed your thighs together, flustered.

“I’m just not in the mood for coffee anymore, is all,” you said, trying to play it cool, because you couldn’t think of a more casual way to say _I want to be on top of you and feel your throbbing hot cock inside me_. “Uh, I’ll just take the bus back home, it’s whatever.”

“Hey, I’ll go back with you,” Peter offered, standing up from his seat, and then realizing he might have worded that wrong -- like suggesting he wanted to go to your house. “I mean, I can take you home. Like, drop you off.” You could see visible beads of sweat on his face.

You nodded at him without really thinking about what you were doing. “You could hang out at my place with me and we could order a pizza, if you want.” _How nonchalant of you_.

Peter’s face flushed a deep pink. “Oh. Sure. I’ll pay for the pizza.

By the way, nice Weezer shirt.”

 

\--

 

Already back in your apartment, you were laying in bed while Peter was talking on the phone with the pizza place. Pineapple is fine if you get spinach, too, you told him. And Canadian bacon.

Watching Peter standing up near your bed, facing away from you and having taken off his long green jacket, your eyes focused on just how curvy his hips and thighs were – and his ass wasn’t half bad either. He looked so soft and good for cuddles.

At first you wanted to punish your brain for having such thoughts, but the man was already in your apartment with you, and you had a feeling it wasn’t just to eat pizza (but that’s a nice addition, too.)

Peter put his phone back in the pocket of his sweatpants (which he seemed to be frequently wearing, a lot) and looked back over to you. He gave you a playful grin, because obviously he knew what was going on, too.

His pudge was so much more noticeable when he wore a T-shirt. It was even slipping over his pants line a bit…

Peter sat down beside you on your bed, not too close or anything, but you still felt yourself getting warmer just by thoughts you were having. You figured he must have been so mature and well-versed when it came to sex, because the hot, experienced older man vibe he was giving off was incredibly strong.

And he still smelled like pineapple. _I wonder if his dick smells like pizza, too_.

Peter looked at you, but you could notice his hands fidgeting with the bedsheets and an embarrassed shade of pink across his face. “Should we, uh, watch a movie while waiting for the pizza? The person said it would take like, 30 minutes, so I just—” His voice trailed off before he could finish that last sentence.

“Sure, we could watch a movie, uh. On Netflix?” you suggested. “I’m in the mood for something with Kurt Russell.”

Paying attention to your choice of words in saying ‘in the mood’ – you weren’t even sure how to approach this. Maybe Peter didn’t want to fuck at all and it was just your horny brain running rampant, or maybe he really did just want pizza and a movie. You covered your mouth as you let out an awkward cough.

Peter smiled at you. “Ooh, Kurt Russell, huh? He’s hot. Is he your type?” He looked at you slyly with a raised eyebrow. You had definitely felt that in your groin just now. “But sure, whatever you want.” He was looking at you with a wry smile and half-lidded eyes.

You went over to the television and picked out your DVD copy of Big Trouble in Little China and put it in your PS4®. As you turned back, you couldn’t help but notice Peter glancing at your ass as you were bent over to put the movie in, looking at you hungrily like he hadn’t eaten in so long. Your face went completely red from the attention he was giving you.

Sitting back down on the bed beside Peter, you moved closer towards him and put your arm around his waist, catching his flustered expression. _This was going to be a long night_.

 

\--

 

Surprisingly, the both of you were actually focused on the movie for a while, admiring how attractive Jack Burton was and laughing at the bad 80s special effects. But somehow you ended up laying your head down on his lap – feeling immense warmth and his dick poking out of his sweatpants.

The loud knock on the door was enough for you to (almost) fall off the bed, because you forgot that you had ordered a pizza. You lifted yourself up off Peter. “I’ll get that,” he said with a nervous laugh. He walked over to the door, opening it and quickly paying the pizza guy while grabbing the box from them, as if he had been impatient.

Peter turned back around to face you, pizza in hand, giving you a sultry glance while lightly licking his lips.

“ _Pizza time_.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how dorky he was. Sitting down and putting the box between the both of you, Peter opened it, and the scent and heat of pizza poured out into your nostrils. You watched the piece he was about to grab, but before he did you took it for yourself, hearing him let out a tiny whine.

“Relax, you can still have it,” you reassured him. “I just wanted to have some fun with you, if that’s alright.”

Peter appeared confused, but you slowly leaned towards him on the bed (avoiding squishing the pizza in the process) to have your face inches away from his.

“Open up.”

He let out another whine, but not a sad one this time around. Peter opened his mouth, his face getting sweaty while he did. You took no time pushing the slice of hot pizza in his mouth, getting impatient from how long it was taking for you two to finally fuck. He struggled with chewing it at first, but made a pleased sound as the gooey, warm cheese hit the back of his throat.

“More,” Peter huffed, desperately. “More pizza, please.”

You took another slice and stuffed it in his mouth, and another, and another after that. The noises emitting from his throat sounded almost _too_ enthusiastic for eating pizza, until you noticed the obvious hard-on in his pants.

As Peter was about to ask for more pizza, instead you took the initiative to lean over him, giving him a hot and frenzied open-mouthed kiss. You felt his lips, and body, completely melt under yours, like he had been waiting for this his whole life.

You were practically on top of him now, his body falling back onto the mattress. As the both of you continued making out, Peter’s hands were frantically looking for some place to hold onto, settling on your soft love handles. He wanted to hold on so tight to you, even gently bucking his hips upward to attend to his raging erection. As you slid your tongue into his mouth, he tried pulling your shirt up at the same time, eager to see what was underneath.

You pulled away for a moment to look at him. “You haven’t had any in a while, huh?”

Peter coughed. “I mean, yeah, it’s been a long time since me and my wife—” He paused. “There’s only so much you can do with your right hand, you know?” he said with a weak chuckle. “Are you sure you’re even comfy with doing this? I’m older than you, and, maybe you already have a boyfriend that I don’t know about? If you’re unsure then you can…”

You gave him a sweet smile while lifting your shirt over your head, revealing a hot pink bra holding your breasts. You fell back down on him and gave him another kiss, slower and more passionate this time, his hands gripping your waist again.

Peter rested his head in the crook of your neck, nesting in it, while rubbing your waist and hips gently. “Your skin is so soft…” he mumbled, barely above a whisper. “It feels so good to touch…”

You unhooked your bra, so he wouldn’t have to do it, and after taking it off and tossing it to the side carelessly, you watched as his big hands went in to touch and feel them – you shuddered at his soft touch, quietly whining as his thumbs rubbed in a circular motion on your nipples.

“Peter…” you let out with a dreamy sigh, your cheeks flushed with pleasure. All he could do was stare at you in awe, amazed at how gorgeous you were.

“Baby, please suck my cock,” Peter pleaded. “Please, baby, make me cum.” Just by looking at his face you could tell how long he’d been waiting to let his cock out of his stuffy sweatpants.

All you could do was nod, moving back off Peter to grab at his pants and begin pulling them down. He hadn’t been wearing anything underneath as his cock practically sprang out like a slinky. Somehow it wasn’t as big or girthy as you imagined it would be, but it wasn’t bad, either; it had a nice, long curve and was circumcised.

You took a hold of Peter’s dick in your right palm, giving it a long, slow stroke, watching his body twitch under your touch. Rubbing the tip with your thumb, you heard him groan, rather pathetically. _He really must not have gotten laid in years if just this is doing so much to him_.

It took a second to move the pizza out of the way (which, unfortunately, wasn’t that hot anymore) and positioned yourself so that your face was right in front of his excited cock. You started off with a small lick near the top, testing the waters, before immediately sticking it into your throat, hearing him make a deep groan of gratitude. You didn’t want to take your time at all and sucked off about as much of him as you could, not caring if you would choke or not, the gorgeous noises emitting from him making it worth it regardless.

“Ah, baby,” Peter moaned, “Could you… stick your ass in the air a bit for me? I just need to see that sweet ass.” You laughed a bit at his comment, but still complying to his request, and even though you were still wearing a pair of jeans you were sure your ass looked plump and tight in them as you showed it off for Peter, feeling his cock react harder as you did.

“Th-This might sound weird but, uh,” he stuttered, avoiding looking at you due to embarrassment. “But could you like… stick your feet out, too?” He laughed nervously, unsure of how you would react to him being _that_ kind of guy.

You gave him a seductive grin, pushing your ass up farther and sticking your legs up too so he could see your feet, wearing a dark pair of stockings. “You mean like this, baby?”

Peter looked like he was going to nut on the spot, his body vibrating. “Yes, oh god, you’re so… hot… fuck,” he cried weakly. “You’re so good to me.”

It was obvious that he was close, so to finish him off, you leaned back to be sitting down, and stretched your legs over on him so that your feet were laying on his stomach. You rubbed the soles of your feet around in circles on his big, plump tummy, enjoying the reaction of him sweating and crying.

And Peter knew where your feet were going to go next, too, watching in heated anticipation. “Oh god, if you do that, baby, I…” His cock seemed to stand up even taller knowing what he was in for. “Oh god, please.”

As soon as you stuck his twitching cock between the soles of your feet, rubbing it gently, you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, his breathing getting more and more labored.

“Do you like that?” you asked, dangerously, voice sensual and dripping with horniness.

“Fuck… fuck, fuck, fuck, mm—”

You rubbed harder, with more feeling in it. “I said, do you like that, daddy?”

“Fuck, fuck, baby… oh _fuck_!”

That’s what had set Peter off, and it just about blew your mind how loud he had moaned for you. You watched as his entire body was shaking, his dick practically exploding, loads of cum blowing out all over. You don’t think you had ever fucked a man as loud as Peter B. Parker, or anyone who was as much of a bottom as he is.

Immediately after he finished, he fell flat on his back in exhaustion, letting out an exasperated sigh. _Did I really fuck him **that** good_?

Peter yawned. “That was fun, babe,” he said, voice low with sleepiness. “Let’s do that again sometime.”

A leftover box of pizza was still at the side of the bed and the TV had been on so long that the power save mode turned it off. You went over to Peter, laying down beside him, feeling him put his arm around you tight while simultaneously falling sleep.

“Goodnight, Spider-Man,” you said cheerfully, dozing into slumber with him.

**Author's Note:**

> it's almost 2019 and i just finished writing this... it's like 4k words... it takes a while to get to the actual smut but it's good (?) i think. happy new year


End file.
